Innocence//l.s

Chapter Twenty Two

Harry

I stumbled back into Louis' apartment after a night with the girls, which was fun and all, but I'm glad I'm home.

Being drunk=Being horny.

"Lewiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii," I made my way through the living room, trying not to trip over my boots. They were gold and very pretty with a nice heel and I <3 them.

Much to my horror, I entered the kitchen to find Louis sat at the table with the two body guards Steven always sent to get me.

My eyes widened and I turned as fast as I could to hide behind the wall again, my inebriated state not helping the situation at all.

Dizzy from all the turning, I took a moment to catch my breathe and wait for the room to stop spinning.

"Fuck," I mumbled under my breath, gripping onto the trim of the door for balance.

I tried to keep my breathing as low as I could, searching the room for something that might help.

Well there's no way to run from this because I will definitely fall flat on my face if I attempt that.

I placed my hands against the wall behind me in an effort to catch my balance before I did this.

This is crazy. It won't work.

Oh well.

Diddley darn.

I grabbed the broom Louis always keeps propped against the door jam for some ungodly reason.

I told that boy that I would build him a fucking case to put this damn broom in if he didn't find a place for it.

That's what I'm going to do once I'm sober enough to not chop my arm off with the saw.

God I'm so fucking drunk.

Taking one last breath, I turned the corner as fast as I could without throwing and swung the handle of the broom at the closest guys head. It landed with a sickening thwack.

"Louis what the hell," the guy I hit with the stick looked behind him at me, holding the back of his head, "you," he made eye contact, recognition sweeping across his features.

As the pair of men stood from their seats Louis looked at me, "Harry what the hell?"

"Why are you talking to them!?" I slurred, knowing it didn't really come out the way I intended it.

"Lads calm down," Louis motioned to the two who looked ready to kill, "He's drunk, I'm just going to go put him to bed," he got up and wrapped his arm around my waist.

"Only if you stay with me," I whispered against his cheek when he was close enough. I felt his grip tighten on my waist as he looked down at me, leading me down the hall.

"Harry-" he started, sitting me down on the bed.

I gripped his shirt, starting down the buttons and popping them out of their place.

"Harry," he tried again, gripping my hands.

I just looked up at him, hoping that if I listened to him he would let go of my hands and let me continue.

"Harry, you're really drunk," he started talking once he knew he had my attention, "and I have very very important business to attend to right now,"

"I'm not a child you don't have to talk like that," I pulled him closer by his belt loops, "Just tell them to leave, they'll understand, you can pick it up tomorrow,"

I looked up at him and he seemed to be faltering.

"Harry," he whispered, "You're drunk and I'm not going to take advantage of you like that,"

"Please daddy, I'm begging for it, begging for your cock, please I need it," I gripped his hips and stood up so our chests were touching.

"W-what did you call me?"

"I called you daddy," I ran my tongue across where his neck and shoulders meet. "Did you like it?"

"Fuck," he breathed out, backing away from me, "You need to sleep off this liquor and I need to finish this, I will talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay Daddy," I laid back. I'll get him to dick me down good tomorrow.

I wonder what he's doing. He's probably doing something great and wonderful because that's what Louis does.

He does great and wonderful stuff.

I pulled my legs up to my chest despite the uncomfortable pull of my jeans.

He didn't even get to see my cute underwear.

And these are my second favorite underwear to wear on the weekends.

It is a weekend, right?

Probably.

I'm wearing underwear, right?

Probably not.

Well I might as well do it myself if Louis isn't going to come in here and help me.

Whatever.

I slipped off my pants as smoothly as I could without falling out of bed, harder than one would think.

As it turns out, I do happen to be wearing under wear.

And they were the ones that I had thought they were.

I counted this as a personal victory, being able to remember which underwear I was wearing.

I gripped the bottom hem of my shirt and pulled that over my head. My hair was a mess, but I'm too tired to fix it.

I had to give up on the plan of having a wank, simply because I couldn't bring myself to do it.

A) there's no lube.

B) without lube I can't do it the way I like

C) wink wonk.

I ran through the list a couple times in my head, deciding after a moment that it was good enough reason to just go to sleep.

I'll just dream of Louis' fingers. Or his tongue. Or his dick.

Nice.

I slid down into the familiar bed, wrapping the blankets around my almost bare body and curling up comfortably.

If I didn't move, and I held my breathe, I could hear the talking from the kitchen.

It was barely audible, but I could make out words when I really listened.

The last thing I heard before I went to bed was a chilling dialogue between the men and Louis.

"What about the stripper?"

I listened for Louis' reply, gripping the blankets.

"You leave that to me,"

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SOOOOOO HI HOWS IT GOING. IM CURRENTLY DROWNING IN A PIT OF SADNESS YEP THATS NICE HAVE A GOOD DAY SORRY SORRY BYE